Right after our daughter’s funeral, my husband insisted on quickly throwing out all her things from the kids’ room, but while cleaning, I found her note…
Sirens wailed outside; backup approaching. In minutes, the yard filled with police cars. Officers in vests spread out around the perimeter.
Emily stepped onto the porch, holding the backpack. «Mrs. Davis!» an officer approached her. «You okay? Where’s Detective Carter?»
«He chased my husband! They went that way, over the fence,» Emily answered.
The officer nodded, gave orders on the radio. Several police headed in that direction.
«Come inside,» the officer gently took Emily by the elbow. «You need to sit. You’re in shock.»
She let him lead her to the living room, mechanically answering questions.
Yes, her husband planned to kill her. Yes, he confessed to killing Olivia. Yes, here are the documents collected by her daughter, here are the microphone recordings.
Time stretched, lost meaning. Emily sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket someone threw over her shoulders. Uniformed people bustled around, photographing, collecting evidence, talking on radios.
She felt like a spectator in a movie, watching someone else’s story.
Finally, the door opened, and Alex entered. His suit was rumpled, a scratch on his face, but his eyes shone with triumph.
«We got him, Emily. Michael’s under arrest.»
She looked up at him. «Did he resist?»
«Tried. But he had no choice. We cornered him by the river. I think he wanted to reach that bridge, the same one.»
Emily shuddered. «Where Olivia…»
«Yes,» Alex nodded. «But we didn’t let him. Now he’s being taken to holding; first interrogation tomorrow.»
He carefully took her hand. «It’s over, Emily. He won’t hurt anyone anymore.»
She shook her head. «Nothing’s over, Alex. Olivia’s dead. My girl won’t come back.»
Tears she had held back all this time finally broke through. Emily sobbed, burying her face in Alex’s shoulder, mourning her daughter, lost years, shattered life.
«I know,» he said quietly, hugging her. «I know. But now there’ll be justice for her, and you have a chance to live on. For her.»
Emily lifted her tear-streaked face. «How? How to live after this?»
Alex didn’t answer. And what could he say? What words could comfort a mother who lost her only child? Who learned the man she lived with for twenty years coldly killed her daughter and planned to kill her too.
«Day by day,» he said finally. «Just day by day. And one day it’ll get easier. Not today, not tomorrow, but it will.»
Emily nodded, wiping tears. «I want to see him. Before trial. Ask why? Why not just leave? Why kill?»
«You’ll get that chance,» Alex promised. «For now, you need rest. You can stay with me or a friend. Better not return to this house for a while.»
Emily looked around. The house where she lived fifteen years. Where Olivia grew up. Now it seemed alien, hostile.
«I’ll pack things,» she said, «and never come back here.»
